


Marked

by Hanna



Category: Original Work
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-07-30
Updated: 2012-07-30
Packaged: 2017-11-11 01:23:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 9
Words: 12,548
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/472894
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Hanna/pseuds/Hanna
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Viewpoint is an exile from the city she was born in who has found refuge in a camp in the desert. But she has left her regrets in the city, and cannot settle until she has dealt with them. She settles into life at the camp, but the man who haunts all her nightmares arrives, and her life is turned upside down.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> I've been working on this story since 2009, and never was happy with it- we are our own worst critics, after all. But other people seem to like it, so I'm going to post it here.

**Prologue**

Many years all of humanity was unified. People lived wherever they chose. Some chose to live in the great city. Others in the rich farmlands. Still others chose to live in the vast desert. But it didn’t matter where they lived; they all shared the same rights. They lived in a democracy, a Chancellor being elected and advised by the people, and all was peaceful.

Then a political party sought power above the others- calling themselves Central Leadership. They were fanatical about controlling the population, and to that end proposed to keep them in the city. This was not a popular idea and they were ostracised. However, after a mysterious illness killed the Chancellor they were the only ones able to take the mantle up, so, reluctantly, to avoid the chaos sure to ensue in an early election, the people appointed Central Leadership as an emergency government. As time passed, Central Leadership simply became known as City.

Ostensibly to establish order, Central Leadership enforced martial law. So called ‘good citizens’- those who were willing to throw their ‘treacherous’ neighbours to the mercy of the Party in return for being left alone- were rewarded. Those who didn’t were punished, brutally. Rebellion sprang out- at first in isolated pockets; then it spread. At first it was small- refusing to pay tolls, not taking public transport to work- but it grew. Soon people were vandalising buildings and attacking their law abiding neighbours.

Brutal punishments were meted out to those caught in the attempt to curb the violence before it took hold, but to no avail. Martial law was tightened to squash the unrest, but that failed too. There was nothing for it- it was down to fighting.

This period of history is called the Great Chasm, and it culminated in both sides taking up arms and meeting in Central Square. Though the rebels fought valiantly, they were defeated and cast out, into the inhospitable desert.

It was hoped they would starve to death.

Only they didn’t. They survived and established camps, which grew as people from the city, uneasy with this new rule, left to find them. Others were banished from the city for minor crimes as a deterrent to other citizens. Martial law remained in effect, and finally the resistance died down and everyone got on with their lives.

Many years later the camps are flourishing, and City is dwindling. People are finding the idea of freedom more attractive than the regimented lives they live in the city, and leaving accordingly. In a desperate effort to preserve their rule, City is sending agents out to the camps to root them out in order to destroy them- for if they don’t do something, and quickly, City will be destroyed…


	2. Chapter 2

**Introduction**

The deep gully was dotted with bright green crests of trees and bushes which rustled with the movement of wind and small animals, unseen from the heights. Decrepit roots jutted from the face of the bare, dry cliff, some looking to snap off any minute, others long having done so. Loose dirt trickled from somewhere near the top to the bottom. Near the bottom, the dirt was packed rock solid by the pressure exerted on it from above. Atop the cliff was a lone tree, a strong, green sapling, a young woman sitting in it.

She looked to be in her mid-twenties, slim, fit and fairly short, entirely unremarkable. Her skin was the colour of chocolate. She stared moodily over the cliff, not seeing the view. An ugly brand shaped like a big thick black 'X' was prominent on her forehead, and she kept rubbing it, snarling softly under her breath.

Flipping back and forth in the breeze, a purple scarf was folded over the tree branch next to her, half pinned by her body. Black leggings adorned her legs; sturdy, worn hide boots that had once been brown her feet; she wore a faded purple three quarter length shirt.

Her dagger was in its sheath under her right sleeve, a long and frightfully sharp blade. Coiled against her back, a whip with an ornately decorated handle hung; a deadly weapon of ceremony. Its nine long tails hung loose, occasionally brushing against her back at the urging of the wind, but she didn't react. She didn't react to anything, even when another woman climbed the slight slope to reach her.

"Hey, VP," she called, her scraggly blonde curls hanging about her shoulders, wearing clothes that looked more or less the same, if a little more worn, and a faded green shirt instead of purple. In the camp, one chose clothes for their practical quality rather than aesthetic. Her eyes were blue, wide and welcoming, and looked almost childish. "VP!" she called again. Still the other woman didn't hear.

"Viewpoint," she said when she was behind her and touched her on the ankle. It was the only part of her she could reach, and that was only with a stick. This she reacted to, looking down, dagger instantly in hand. But, on seeing the other, she relaxed and slipped it back into the sheath.                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                          

"Is something up?” Her eyes were laughing as she spoke, and she swung her long black braid from side to side in a playful manner. “Or did you just come to interrupt my brooding?”

"Our new correspondent is here," Star told VP. "I thought you'd like to meet him." VP's eyes lit up in anticipation and she grinned, a fairly evil grin.

"Oh he is?" VP’s eyes glinted. "I've heard so much about him. Cute and dark haired?" she teased her friend. Star went pink and spoke defensively.

"Well, he is! Just wait till you meet him. You'll see." She jutted her round chin out in a mock pout.

She laughed. "I will, soon," she said.  ”Let's go." Linking arms the girls walked off.

XX

When the pair arrived at camp, it was to find a cloaked and hooded figure lounging against a tree on a carved bench. He seemed perfectly at ease with himself and his surroundings, even though no one stopped to talk to him or indeed paid him any mind.

"This is Viewpoint," Star introduced VP with a smile when they reached him. "She's my best friend.” He turned to the two women. Neither could see the insidious smile that sprang to life on sighting VP under his hood.

"VP, this is Dallas," Star continued, childish blue eyes sparkling. "He's been bringing all our new information from the city."

"Charmed," VP said, smiling warmly. "You gonna take that hood off, stranger, or will I have to guess by your voice whether the stories Star's been telling me are true?" Dallas smiled. _Oh, I'll take the hood off,_ he thought. _And then you won't be smiling._

"Sure I will, Viewpoint. Or should I call you VP?" his voice was taunting, but deep and soothing, and suddenly VP's smile became fixed, eyes cold. He removed the hood to reveal a curiously handsome face; for all that it was dark and shadowed. His eyes were like two pits of very deep dark and cold water.

"Huh?" Star was looking completely bewildered between the two, her eyes darting from her friend to Dallas. "VP? Dallas?"

"We've met," VP said frostily. Star looked shocked at her friend's tone; it was as cold as her eyes were.

"Indeed we have, though she went by a rather different name then," Dallas said with a faint smirk. "Hello again, Maris."


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter 2**

Confusion reigned in the camp and rumours took it by storm.

“I heard they were going to execute Dallas,” went of the whispers circulating the rumour mill. That was Viewpoint’s favourite.

“I heard that Viewpoint was a stirrer and was going to be thrown out,” went another, her least favourite.

“They can’t. They have to protect her since they took her in. If they throw her out, any one of us could be next.” She liked that person instantly.

“We aren’t stirrers, making up stories about people we don’t like,” someone else argued. VP felt her anger rising but Star lay a hand on her shoulder.

“No, VP. They don’t know what they’re saying,” she said soothingly but firmly.

VP had gotten over her numbness and the cold fury had taken over. Her eyes were always icy and she never stopped following Dallas. Twelve faces flashed before her eyes every time she closed them, faces she had never forgotten but hadn’t thought about since she had been exiled. It hurt too much.

The memory of her failure hurt too much. Lora tried to assure her it wasn’t her fault, but she had always taken it the hardest. She felt responsible; since she was the one Ryal had approached first. She had convinced the others to help.

But it was Ryal who was responsible for the deaths, she reminded herself. Again their faces flashed through her mind.

Lyra, young and sweet but angry. Her smile had lit up the room. Keith, a handsome young man not much younger than her. They had gotten along well. Marlie, the loner who was passionate about the cause she fought for but was a very solitary fighter. Very quiet. Sora, beautiful Sora everyone loved and who loved everyone equally. She had just been in the wrong place at the wrong time. And Toran.

A slow, reminiscent smile spread across her face. Ah, Toran.

Just then someone sat beside her and she looked over, interrupted from her brooding. She scowled at the man. He had proved himself to be firmly against her.

“Happy now, Viewpoint? You have us in disarray with your story. Very convincing. You even cried. But a story none the less,” he said. She had never caught his name but disliked him immensely despite this.

“The truth,” she snapped, resisting the urge to knock a couple of his teeth out. “You have no idea how much it hurt to tell the Council.” She sighed deeply.

“Because you don’t like to lie,” the man sneered. He was about to speak again when someone else spoke.

“Would you lie about something like that?” the young man asked sharply. “Twelve dead is nothing to joke about.” The first man rose.

“Just because you like her doesn’t mean you have to defend her lies,” he said, scowling. The younger man went pink but glared at him. The man slouched off.

“Don’t listen to Maxel,” he said. So that was his name. “I’m Sam.” He held out his hand and VP shook it.

“Call me VP,” she said. “One of the members of the rebellion was called Sam.”

“Really?” Sam looked interested.

“Yes. He had an odd twitch in his cheek.” She smiled at the memory. “He used to get teased for it.” She looked at Sam’s bright blue eyes, nothing like his, but still somehow similar. Sam blushed at the attention.

“He didn’t get executed. His name wasn’t drawn. He hated violence.” Deep anguish was in her eyes, and he was somehow sure that surviving was not a blessing.

Sam grinned. “I’m a pacifist,” he said. “No fighting for me.”

“Most of us thought that. But there was no winning without a fight. So we did what we had to and nothing more.” Sam smiled.

“I think I’d do the same,” he said. “I was born here, you know. This is a peaceful camp. There are some that aren’t, but we are. Much like your rebellion,” he looked at her.

“That’s crossed my mind more than once,” VP said with a tiny smile. “I hope Lora ended up in a nice camp. A peaceful camp, where she could settle down.”

“I’m sure she did,” Sam said soothingly. “The Gods wouldn’t let her end up in a violent one.”

“The Gods,” VP spat bitterly. “How could they let us be treated so badly? I can’t believe in them anymore.” Sam patted her arm.

“I don’t know if I could either, if I’d been through what you have,” he said. “Where’s the mercy and equality they profess to love in discrimination and death?”

“There isn’t. But somehow Sora believed in them, right to the very end.” VP fell silent, a lump in her throat. “It gave her great comfort while the world fell to bits around us.” Tears glittered in her eyes. “Sometimes I wished I could too.”

Sam smiled and rose.

“Maybe one day you will again,” he said. “Your fortunes have changed, and one day City will fall. Just have faith.”

“I believe in the people. City may be corrupt, but the people aren’t,” she said, fiercely.

“That’s enough.” Sam walked away and VP smiled. He reminded her of the Sam she had known in the city, a kind and gentle boy who had never harmed a fly in his life. Sam had loved all animals and people. She imagined he’d be part of a conservation organisation somewhere, to protect the environment or animals. It was his type of thing.

“He’s a nice lad,” Star said. “Helps out around camp a lot.” Surprised, the woman turned to her. She had forgotten Star was there, though she supposed her best friend always was hanging around somewhere nearby.

“He is,” she agreed. Silence fell between the two women as both contemplated whatever was in their minds.

Toran...

VP’s mind returned to the man she had known and a smile curved over her lips. His face, framed by his black hair, shone before her. His warm brown eyes were dancing. The memory filled her eyes with tears.

“Oh, Toran,” she sighed. Star looked at her.

“Who’s Toran?” she asked softly. Her friend’s blue eyes were kind as she put a pale arm around VP’s shoulder.

“Toran was special,” she said. She smiled. “I was very close to Toran.” She lapsed into silence, softness in her eyes. Star squeezed her shoulders tightly then rose.

“I’m going to get something to eat. Coming?” she asked. VP shook her head.

“I already ate,” she said, in a tone that clearly indicated that she hadn’t but had no desire to eat anyway. Star nodded and laid a hand on VP’s shoulder.

“Camp will settle down, VP. You’ll see.”

XX

VP was sitting in her tent later that day, writing something in her diary, when Dallas entered.

“Just invite yourself in why don’t you?” she asked irritated, not looking up, thinking it was Star. “Scat!”

“Oh, but I have business here,” he said. She froze and snarled.

“Get out of my tent, Ryal,” she hissed at him, putting the diary down. “I don’t want to get the blood over my possessions.” He laughed silkily.

“I’m so scared,” he said mockingly. “Quavering in my boots.” She was on her feet in a second, face right in his.

“You ought to be, you murdering back stabbing bastard,” she hissed, spitting in his face. “Did you just want to weed out the rebels when you set us up? Or were you paid?”

“Both,” he turned on his heel and marched out. VP tried to calm herself down but failed miserably, ending up smashing a small statue. She left herself.

“I need to hit something,” she muttered.

XX

An hour later found her punching a punching bag over and over again. She had gotten a piece of chalk and drawn a surprisingly accurate sketch of Dallas’s face and was hitting it over and over, kicking it and even head butting it. She was snarling and hissing.

“Wow,” Sam said from the door to the gym. “I’m never getting you angry at me.” She spun around startled, fists up, but relaxed.

“It’s just me!” he exclaimed as he moved forwards. She was flushed, adrenaline pumping through her as she tried to catch her breath. “What’s with the punching bag anyway?”

“I might not do it to him if I do it to the punching bag,” she replied.

“Then by all means, continue,” Sam said with a laugh. She nodded but didn’t reply for a long moment, mind somewhere else. “What is it?”

“I thought I’d left this all behind,” she sighed after a minute. “This... pain. The fury. I thought I left their ghosts in the city,” she sat down and put her head in her hands. “Turns out you can’t run from your mistakes.”

“How is it your mistake? All I’ve heard seem to indicate it was his fault.” Bitterly she laughed.

“I suppose so. But how can I forgive myself? If I hadn’t trusted him when he came to me, none of it would have ever happened.”

“He would have just approached someone else.” Sam said. “I know his kind. And even if he hadn’t, you’d have just remained a prisoner in your own city.”

“I guess,” it was obvious she hadn’t taken any of it on board. “But have you ever led a group? I was a leader, an inspiration to them. I was responsible for them. And they were killed.”

“I don’t know what to say,” Sam admitted after a moment of silence. “I’ve only ever been responsible for my own life. I certainly can’t understand your feelings.”

“No one can. But at least you and Star are trying,” she sighed. “Ryal keeps putting himself in my path. I swear he wants to die.”

“Ryal is Dallas?” Sam asked after a moment, figuring out that they must be one and the same.

“Of course, I’m sorry. Yes. He told us to call him Ryal.” There was a pause. “He did it for the money.” A single tear slipped down her cheek. “Twelve lives lost... and all for money.” She bit her lip, voice quavering. “I hope he was robbed.” Sam chuckled.

“I sure hope so,” he said. “That’d be justice.”

“Justice won’t be paid until he’s dead,” VP said angrily. “Until the deaths of those young people are avenged in blood.”

“It won’t bring them back,” he said. “Nothing can. Could you live with yourself after killing him?”

“For five years I’ve lived with their ghosts. I can live with it,” she looked fiercely at Sam. “I won’t let him ruin any more lives. The government wants to put the rebels down. All rebels down. There can be no room for rebellion in their totalitarian view. People might prefer us. And they can’t afford to lose control.”

“We haven’t even attacked them. Other camps have but we haven’t,” Sam protested. “We’re peaceful.”

“We’re rebels still. They don’t care. If there’s an alternative option, people will take it. It’s us versus them and they’re determined to crush us. Thus they’re paying Ryal to find us.”

“Why don’t they send armies now? They know where we are,” Sam said frowning, confused.

“Because they want to crush us all in one blow.” Both fell silent at this grim thought. Peaceful Sam was horrified.

“The way of this world is violence as long as there are men to fight,” VP said. “It’s just how it happens. This place you’ve grown up in, it’s peaceful. But you still have fighters here.”

“They fight for peace,” he protested.

“We did too.”


	4. Chapter 4

**Chapter 3**

Viewpoint was not going to have a good day. Maxel had purposely stopped her on her way to breakfast and told her that his faction was going to have her thrown out and keep Dallas instead. She had barely resisted the very strong urge to knock him out.

Then at breakfast Dallas himself came over to her table and sat down opposite her. She stood up and moved to a different table, but he followed her smirking.

“Go away Ryal,” she snapped, voice taut. “Leave me alone.” Her knuckles were white from the effort to keep them from making contact with him.

“Don’t be so rude to the guest,” he said silkily. She shot him a death glare.

“I’ll never be polite to you. You don’t deserve it,” she spat, aware everyone was watching them.

“And why do you deserve it?” someone asked. She ignored them, but Dallas didn’t. He stretched comfortably in the chair.

“Answer the question, Maris,” he said. A snarl ripped from her throat.

“ _Don’t call me that!”_ She was furious, her blood pounding in her ears. “I left Maris Dellore behind in the city. She died on an execution platform covered in blood when they branded her forehead.”

“Oh, I apologise. I thought I was talking to her but apparently I was wrong,” he said smoothly.

“You’re wrong about a lot of things,” VP said flatly.

“Are you breaking your good behaviour bond?” someone from Dallas’s side of the room called mockingly.

“Shut up! Leave her alone!” someone retorted from her side. “If you had been through what she has you’d be angry too!”

“What she says she has! How do you know it’s not just a story?” a new voice said.

“No one is sick enough to make that up,” her supporter replied. She put her head on her arms and tried to slow her breathing, to calm down. She was going to explode...

“Maris, are you feeling well?” Dallas asked cruelly. She looked up at him, furious.

“Don’t you dare talk to me, bastard! You deserve to die and I’ll see it done by my hand, just you wait and see!” with that she leapt up and stormed out of the cafeteria.  Sniggers followed her from Dallas’s side of the room.

Wearily she sat down outside and Sam followed her. She looked up and half smiled, unsurprised to see him.

“You’re nearly as good as Star now,” she said. He grinned.

“Well, since she’s on patrol, I’ll have to do her job,” he said. His eyes danced merrily. “You need an offsider. And two has to be better than one.” VP smiled a little.

“This is going to be a very bad day,” she said.

“Don’t worry. I’m sure you’ll get through it.” He smiled at her before she stood and walked away.

XX

She was right. Her day sucked. First her midday patrol was stinking hot, and then lunch was a food she didn’t like. And most of all, Ryal kept crossing paths with her. It was all she could do not to kill him then and there.

“Maybe you ought to have a break. Stress from your job seems to be getting to you,” he suggested snidely as he lounged outside her tent.

“Better get that blood pressure checked out,” he told her with mock seriousness in the gym when she was pummelling a punching bag for all she was worth.

“Tsk, tsk I think someone needs anger management,” he sniggered after she sent a fist flying at him.

Finally she snapped.

“Bit tense today, Maris,” he said with a smirk as he strolled in front of her. She glared at him.

“Have you got enough blood?” she asked abruptly. He stared at her for a second.

“Quite enough, thank you very much,” he said suspiciously. He frowned at her, his dark shadowed eyes puzzled.

“Not enough to pay your debt, I don’t think,” she snapped.

“Debt? I don’t know what debt you’re talking about, Maris,” he was regaining composure now.

“Have you enough blood to pay for twelve lives?” she shot at him, anger sparkling in her icy eyes.

“Oh, you’re still harping on about that,” he sighed theatrically, as if bored of the topic. “That is no debt of mine. It was their own stupid fault they came out of their homes to join your rebellion.”

“That was your rebellion. You tempted it out into the open, convinced people to join and you reported and killed them,” VP spat. “And you’ll do the same here.”

“And what will you do to stop me, Maris?” smirking, he started to walk away.

CRACK!

He gasped in pain, doubling over. Painfully he straightened and turned to VP. She was glaring at him, nine-tailed whip in her hand.

“I will kill you before you can hurt them. I will kill you for the week of torture Lora, Galen and I suffered. I will kill you for depriving me of the chance to raise a family and settle down with my mate, to have children and watch them grow. I will kill you because you killed him,” she hissed. There was real fear in his eyes.

“You wouldn’t. Not without the Council’s permission,” he said weakly, knowing that she didn’t honestly care about that.

“You think that would stop me, Ryal? You think I wouldn’t? For five years I’ve left this mess behind, and you had to go and ruin it. It’s not enough that you ruined Maris’ life but you had to ruin mine too,” her icy eyes were narrowed dangerously, her whip still in her hand. He swallowed nervously and opened his mouth but shut it again. She had a maniac gleam in her eyes.

“I will ruin your life the way you ruined their lives. Permanently.” He backed up two steps, which she matched, the whip held threateningly above her head. Just then a Councillor stepped up to them.

“Excuse me Viewpoint, what are you doing?” she asked coolly.

“I’m going to ruin the life of the man who ruined mine,” she said matter-of-factly, not moving. “Please move Councillor, I would hate to hit you too.”

“His fate has not been decided yet. You will not harm him until it is,” she said firmly, walking away. VP glared at her retreating back and muttered something very rude. Then she turned to Dallas.

“Just you wait.” The madness in her eyes made him shiver. For once he didn’t have a reply as he scurried off, thanking the Gods that he had survived.

XX

“You should have hit him,” Star said later on as they walked together. “He totally deserves it.”

“I’ll do more than that. I’ll kill him slowly,” VP said, staring ahead. “He will regret the day he ever met me. He will beg for mercy before I’m finished with him.” Star shuddered.

“Do you really want to go down that path?” she asked. “Is it really worth it to kill him?” VP looked straight at her.

“Yes,” her voice was strong, steady. “The world is best rid of that piece of... filth.”

“Don’t get in trouble, VP,” Star said anxiously.

“You don’t get it Star. I don’t care anymore. That man deserves to die and he will die if its thing I do. For him,” immense sadness came into her eyes and she looked down.

“Who is he?” she asked gently, putting a hand on her friend’s shoulder.

“Someone I was very close to. My closest friend... my...” VP’s voice trailed off.

“Your lover?” Star asked. VP had started to cry as she nodded mutely.

“We were more than that,” she said. “We were to be married before the month was out.” Her fists clenched and she straightened, cold fury in her tear-filled eyes.

“I will murder him for killing my Toran. He wasn’t even chosen. He just dragged him up and… I was forced to watch as he was... as he was...” with a hand, she indicated guns. Fresh tears streamed down her cheeks as Star winced.

To see your fiancée gunned down in front of a firing squad... she couldn’t imagine it. To be married within a month, too... all those hopes dashed. And your last memory that of his broken body... Star felt tears glittering in her own eyes.

“I’m so sorry, VP,” she exclaimed, impulsively hugging her. VP looked bleakly at her.

“Why? You didn’t pull the trigger.”

XX

Toran’s face filled VP’s vision and she smiled. He was laughing. He’d done that a lot. His rich, mellow voice filled her ears and she sighed as she felt her heart tighten.

_“I love you, my darling. Just imagine, before a month we will be married. Won’t it be wonderful, darling? I can’t wait to see our children.”_

“I wanted to have your children,” she said out loud, softly. “So much...”

“Thinking of your dear deceased lover, are you?” a cruel voice said. Ryal. Cold fury filled her and she lost it. She leapt on him, snarling. They vanished in the dirt swirling around them, fists flying, him screaming, her seeing red, blood pounding in her ears.

XX

Someone wrenched her away from him.  She fought them, screaming like a banshee.

“Let me go! Let me at him!” more hands wrapped around her, fighting to hold her still.

“VP! VP!” Star’s face appeared before her. “VP, calm down! Calm down VP!”

“Stop it VP!” Sam said, appearing beside Star. “You nearly killed him!”

“Then let me finish the job! He deserves to die!” she fought harder and heard swearing from the men holding her.

“And who are you to decide?” someone asked from nearby, accusingly.

“Someone who saw twelve people gunned down because of him,” she snapped back.

“So you say,” sneered someone else.

“Why can’t you just leave her alone and ruin someone else’s life?” an angry voice from behind her asked.

“Silence,” said an authoritative voice. “Leave us. Take him to the medical tent.” Three men took an unconscious and bleeding Dallas away. The woman turned to Viewpoint.

“Why did you do that to him, Viewpoint?” she asked.

“He deserved it,” VP said shortly.

“Why?” the stern voice asked, unwilling to accept that answer. The crowd had melted away by now, thankfully, or she wouldn’t have replied.

“He… he mocked… mocked my… fiancée.” VP’s eyes filled with tears and her bottom lip trembled.

“You were to be married?” the woman asked, startled, eyes softening.

“Before the month was out. Before he... he was the last. They put one bullet into him at a time. To make it slower. I was forced to watch the whole time. He wasn’t even chosen. Ryal... just wanted to punish me. He never liked me...” VP sobbed freely. The woman had a troubled smile now.

“I am sorry. I didn’t know. But nonetheless, you still must be punished.” She looked thoughtful. “Tent guard. For three days.”

“If you want him to live, make it three weeks,” VP said frankly. “I don’t know if I can control myself anymore.”

“Three days. And he will have a guard, as will you.”

“You really think two guards can stop me? How many men did you have holding me before?” VP asked bitterly.

“Three of our strongest,” she admitted. “And you very nearly overpowered them.”

“Call it adrenaline then,” VP said with an attempt at a laugh.

The two women watched each other in silence for a moment.

“Three days. And a guard each. I will tell him to stay clear of you. And you stay clear of him.”

“Only if he stays out of my way,” VP said firmly. “If I see him again too close, I can’t guarantee what I’ll do.”

“Very well. I shall inform him. As for you, back to your tent. Meals will be brought to you.”

“It sounds fair to me,” she nodded, rising. “I’m on a good behaviour bond, aren’t I?”

“Yes,” the Councillor said. “For as long as Dallas is in camp.”

“Hopefully a short time then,” VP sighed and looked at her body, splattered with Ryal’s blood. “Um... bath first?” she asked hopefully. The Counsellor laughed.

“Go and clean up good and properly. I’d hate for you to get blood in your tent,” She said.

“Thank you Ma’am.” VP managed. “Straight to my tent after, I promise.” She and her guard walked off and the Councillor sighed.

Maybe her best behaviour wouldn’t be good enough.


	5. Chapter 5

**Chapter 4**

Viewpoint kicked the sand moodily. For a week she’d been roaming to get out of the camp, and away from Dallas. The first night of her tent arrest, she’d snuck out the back with a bag. She knew the Council wouldn’t care. In fact, they’d thank her when she returned. If she returned.

More than once the notion of staying out here and searching for Lora and Galen had crossed her mind. She needed to find out if they had survived.

Curse Ryal for bringing her old and abandoned life back into sharp focus! She had tried to forget the feelings she was now struggling to reconcile with her new life! Apparently she hadn’t succeeded.

Viewpoint was just another rebel, just another one with a mysterious past. Maris Dellore lived in the city and was a leader of a rebellion that went badly wrong. But Maris Dellore had died when they branded her forehead. Viewpoint simply couldn’t survive Maris Dellore’s feelings.

 _Apparently you didn’t leave them behind_ , a quiet voice said in her head. It sounded like something Star would say.

She tried to ignore that voice as she sat down and rubbed an ointment she kept in her bag into a deep cut on her hand, grimacing as it stung.

Her eyes were infinitesimally gentler than usual as she mused about the camp. She missed Star, her ready laugh, her beautiful smile. She thought how going home would feel, back to Star and Sam.

She grew sad.

Home had been ruined for her, by the appearance of Ryal. Curse him. He had to ruin my new life too. Her face grew hard.

_Maybe he didn’t._

VP didn’t like that voice either and did her best to block it out.

A small voice laughed in her head. Hiding beneath a tree in the desert to get away from one man, and they wonder if you’re crazy or not. Now you’re talking to yourself. You really are crazy, Maris. She jumped in shock, looking like someone had just skinned her alive.

When did I start to think of myself as Maris again? It worried her. The life she had left behind didn’t just haunt her in Ryal’s words and appearance, but in her own mind. Angrily, she picked up a rock and threw it as far and hard as she could.

 _Maybe it has been too long since you have._ It was that voice again, that niggling little annoying voice that had not shut up since Ryal had returned. This time she considered what it had to say.

Once I was Maris. Maybe to let my demons settle- to let their ghosts finally rest- I need to reconnect with her and the mistakes she made. It was a disturbing prospect. She didn’t want to come face to face with her old self, with the woman she had left behind. She was afraid she wouldn’t like the person she’d see, and that Maris wouldn’t like Viewpoint.

Absorbed in her thoughts, she let her feet carry her back to camp.

XX

Dallas was irate.

“You said you’d keep her under tent arrest! How do I know she won’t leap out at me from behind a tree or something?”

“Generally that isn’t her way,” a voice said from behind him. He leapt a mile in the air as Star walked out from behind the tents. She smirked.

“Then again, she may just change her mind this time,” Maris leapt down from a tree too close for comfort to him. “Hey, Star, I missed you.”

“You too, VP. Camp has seemed so boring without you,” Star replied conversationally, as if it wasn’t strange that she had appeared out of thin air.

“Isn’t anyone going to ask her where she’s been all this time?” he demanded. The Council member he had been talking to blinked.

“No,” he said. “Why should we?”

“She always does this. You’ll get used to it, if you stay long enough,” Star told him. “Don’t panic. She doesn’t usually bite.”

“Hard,” smirked Maris. “And it isn’t poisonous. At least it wasn’t last time I checked.

“You aren’t exactly inspiring me with confidence,” Dallas said dryly. He contained a nervous swallow. _She doesn’t mean to..._

“Good,” she said, smirking. Then, as quickly as she’d arrived, she vanished again. The Councillor didn’t even blink, clearly used to it, and Star, after shooting him a smug look, followed Maris.

He sighed. Sometimes, despite his following, he felt outnumbered.

XX

Star moved her pawn up one space. VP moved her bishop and took the pawn Star had just moved. Star cursed.

“How do you always do that?” she grumbled. VP smiled sweetly.

“I’m a genius, Star my friend,” she said, smirking. “Your move.” She leaned back on her chair, looking smug. Star frowned and examined the board. She came to one conclusion.

“You are so flattened,” Sam said. Star looked startled up at him and VP actually fell off her chair in surprise, having been tipping the legs backwards. She rose, a faint blush gracing her cheeks.

Star giggled.

“Where did you come from?” VP asked, looking annoyed with herself as she righted her chair and sat back down, all four legs firmly planted on the ground.

Sam smirked. “Outside. You two were so engrossed you didn’t even notice,” he said. “She’s smashed you, Star. I’d forfeit now will you still have some honour.”

“I can’t. She won’t let me,” Star griped. “She says you ought to finish what you start and come firmly last.” Sam laughed.

“Only as long as it’s you who comes last not her,” he said.

“Of course,” VP said. “How else would the saying go?”

“When the going gets tough the tough get going,” Sam quipped. Both Star and VP laughed.

Viewpoint fell into bitter silence. Yeah, and if we’d followed it he might still be alive. Instead we had to go play the bloody hero.

Star overturned the chessboard with finality. The pieces scattered across the compact dirt floor. All three watched them quietly then Sam cracked up laughing.

It took several minutes for him to calm down, in which VP was thinking of the City, and Star was anxiously watching VP.

When Sam realised something was wrong he anxiously looked at Star, as if to ask what happened. Star shrugged helplessly and both turned to watching the grim, vulnerable visage of their friend.


	6. Chapter 6

**Chapter 5**

Viewpoint woke from a nightmare.

_It was the choosing again. The death lottery. She wanted to look away but her guard wouldn’t let her. He yanked on her chain whenever she looked away or closed her eyes. As each chained friend was shoved on stage, varying degrees of terror or defiance in their eyes, she looked at them, begging them silently to forgive her. Some met her eyes right back, others hid their faces._

_That was when Ryal rose and put the lottery away. He looked directly at her and smirked before he spoke._

_“Toran Caines,” he announced without a lottery ball being drawn. Her eyes widened in horror and she couldn’t help herself._

_“No!” she cried out suddenly. “No!”_

It was Star who woke her, running in urgently at her shrill scream.

“Viewpoint! Viewpoint!” she exclaimed, shaking her and, pale as a ghost, her black friend jerked up, shoving her away as she stared around wild eyed.

“No, no,” she moaned softly. “Not him. Not him…”

“VP,” Star crooned, touching her shoulder gently. “It’s me. It’s just a nightmare. Wake up, VP.”

Slowly the woman’s breathing evened out and she looked around a little startled before she realised where she was. She met Star’s eyes.

“It was the choosing day,” she whispered bleakly. “And his name… it wasn’t…”

“Hush,” Star murmured. “Hush.”

She helped her off the bed and fetched a set of clean clothes before leading her to the bathhouse so she could have a soothing shower.

XX

As the water ran down her sweat matted body, VP did relax, taking a deep breath and trying to push the images back. But they wouldn’t leave her now, and unwittingly another memory followed the choosing- one that was somehow infinitely worse.

_They dragged the animal like Galen off the stage. His eyes were wild and he was lashing out at everyone, half crazed with the pain of his brand and the week of isolation and beatings. And now it was her turn._

_The guard grabbed her chains and she fought him. She was not going to let them brand her, not going to take it meekly, not going to lie down and roll over for City. But he was stronger than the half-starved girl and managed to get her up and fasten her chains to the blood soaked stage. The executioner took his time about heating the brand before the sorrowful, fearful crowd. He turned to her, and his cold smile chilled her to her core. She began to shiver as he advanced upon her and she tried to drag her head back, but in the guillotine she could not move it._

_She wasn’t aware of what happened next. The iron touched her forehead and the pain consumed her. Her agony was so great that she lost track of everything else, she felt the pressure of the branding iron held there for several seconds as she tried to kick out, to move, to get away from the torturer! Finally it stopped and to her horror, tears had caked her cheeks. Her throat was so hoarse she could barely swallow. And her family couldn’t look at her._

She was crying again and Star was holding her under the streaming water of the shower, her clothes soaking.

“Hush,” she whispered again. “It’ll be alright.”

XX

VP listlessly poked the food around her plate, unable to contemplate eating when her Toran could not. She could still feel the agony of the brand consuming her. It felt like it had never stopped spreading its insidious fire since they had held it to her forehead.

“Eat,” Star urged softly, but she didn’t reply. She just sat there, staring into the distance, horror etched into ever line of her face. Ryal said something to her, but she didn’t hear. She looked into his face and saw the smug smile he had worn when sentencing her Toran to death. For the first time, she didn’t fight.

She burst into tears instead, and he didn’t look smug. He looked somehow regretful instead and was forced to turn away.

XX

“This is starting to look ever more like the rebellion,” VP sighed to Sam as they walked together on patrol. Sam blinked up at her, cocking his head to one side. His bright blue eyes pierced her pale, icy grey ones.

“Why do you say that?” he asked, frowning slightly. From what he knew of the rebellion; and she had told him a fair amount, that didn’t sound good. He knew how City had dealt with her rebellion and how hard she had taken it. If the camp came to the same fate, she could never live with herself.

He had to wonder what Dallas wanted coming here. More money, perhaps? He wouldn’t put it past him. Or was it a personal grudge that had brought him to seeking out the rebel camps, against VP or any of the other leaders of the failed rebellion?

“We’re falling apart,” VP said, jerking Sam from his thoughts. “We’re fragmenting into two factions, two factions pitted against each other.” Her head dropped. “I never wanted this to happen. I never meant to drag everyone else into my conflict with Ryal. I feel so bad.” Sam patted her shoulder.

“Don’t feel bad. You simply told the Council of your refusal to work with him and your history with him so they could take precautions against the same thing happening to them. It was the choice of the camp to take sides,” he said, smiling reassuringly.

“But I can’t help but feel that if I hadn’t raised such a fuss the camp would still be united,” she admitted. “Yet, I know that if I hadn’t, and Ryal reported the camp and City took action, I’d feel worse.” She sighed deeply and closed her eyes.

Sam hugged her tightly, and, to his surprise, she hugged him back.

“Life sucks,” he said with an easy grin. “Life sucks but sometimes you just have to live with it and choose the lesser of two evils.” Fiercely, VP stared at him.

“I am determined to eradicate _all_ evil,” she snapped. “What do you think the whole rebellion was about? What do you think _this_ rebellion is all about?” He held up his hands in surrender, glancing around to make sure their conversation wasn’t reaching unwanted ears. Like, say, Dallas’s.

“We can’t eradicate all evil, VP,” he said. “Sometimes we are forced to choose the lesser of two evils and have to appease our consciences later when we have time to think.” She sighed and her tense shoulders slumped.

“I haven’t had time to think in so many years,” she said, squeezing her eyes shut and massaging her temple. Sam smiled and placed a hand on her wrist, squeezing it comfortingly.

“You’ll find time,” he said. “Even if it’s on your deathbed, you’ll find time.” VP rolled her eyes with a shaky chuckle.

“Your optimism is inspiring, Sam,” she said grinning a little. Sam bowed mockingly, his eyes sparkling with mirth. He shook with laughter, glad to have made her laughed.

“Thank you, I am told I am renowned for it. My optimism is famous around the camp.” A small grin quirked at the side of her lips.

“Infamous, more likely,” she said.

“Hey, fame is fame,” Sam said, grinning infectiously. “Whether or not it’s positive or negative, I’ll take whatever I get.”

For all his trouble, VP hit him in the arm. Rubbing it ruefully, he grinned.

“I deserved that.”

XX

The camp was quiet that night as VP and Sam farewelled at the edge and went to their respective tents. The sounds of crickets chirping filled the air and a pleasantly cool breeze blew between tents. VP took a deep breath and smiled, filling her lungs with the fresh, crisp air. Two other tents were lit, no doubt the next patrol. She remained outside as the two men exited and headed to her.

“No signs of any problems,” she reported. “Most action we saw was a fox killing a bird.” One of the men chuckled and grinned.

“Sleep well, Viewpoint,” he said. “We’ll make sure to bury what’s left of it.” His companion rolled his eyes and punched him in the shoulder and the two men set off towards the ridge VP and Sam had just vacated. VP ducked into her tent, looking around.

By the light of the full moon streaming though the fabric everything was clear to her. The set of draws containing her clothing was closest to her bed, a table on which two books sat near the centre of the tent, one a rather fat novel, which had a beaded bookmark marking a page about two thirds of the way through, and the other her green covered diary, on which sat a black pen. A wooden chair was pushed into the table.

The bed was unmade, its white sheets spread to reveal a standard issue and rather hard mattress, stained by sand. A heavy black drape was neatly folded over the bar separating her bed from the tent, to give her some privacy when changing and sleeping. A grey blanket was strewn over the sheet, its position unchanged from when she had woken. Her pillow was at the top of the bed, an indentation from where her head had been still visible. She saw the torturer in every shadow, saw Toran in every corner, and, curled into a tiny ball on her bed, struggled to sleep.


	7. Chapter 7

**Chapter 6**

The members of the Council sat in a circle, discussing what should be done about Dallas.

“If Viewpoint is correct and he is a mercenary for the government of the city, then he is not to be trusted under any circumstances,” a kind faced woman who going grey named Faith said.

“But Viewpoint is biased against him because of what happened to her rebellion,” a black haired man with a big nose said.

“And her fiancée,” Thelma, a soft spoken woman, with long brown hair that hung to her waist, said, her brown eyes gentle. The others nodded in agreement.

“But the situation stands. We cannot deny the validity of her story, to her at least. She believes with all her heart that Dallas is responsible for the death of her friends and loss of her stature,” the second man, Thomas, said.

Faith, spoke again.

“She has never lied to us before about matters such as this,” she said, cocking her head to one side.

“Then again, matters of this severity have never risen up before,” Thelma said. “She has told us the truth in all things of importance before, but she failed to mention Toran in her original report of the situation.”

“If your lover was gunned down before you not a month before you were to be married, would you wish to speak of the event?” Faith asked, looking at Thelma. After a moment, Thelma shook her head.

“No. But it is an important factor in her psyche and her bias. We must take into account that she has been severely wounded by him and wants revenge more than anything else,” she said.

“We had our doubts before Viewpoint brought this before us about the legitimacy of his defection,” a new man, Kevin, with blonde hair and hazel eyes, said. “If this Council will remember, his story just did not hold up.” More nods around the room.

“Indeed,” Faith said. “It kept changing, but he delivered reliable intelligence so we chose to ignore the discrepancies in his story.” The members of the Council glanced around at each other, silent for a few moments.

“So what do we do?” Thomas asked.

XX

“I’m losing it, Sam,” VP and Sam sat on a fallen trunk some distance from camp. “I’m losing it and I don’t know how long I can stay while he’s here,” she stared at the ground, littered with leaves and twigs amongst the sand. “I don’t know how long I can hold myself without killing him.”

“Don’t kill him, VP,” Sam said slinging an arm over her shoulder. “Leastways, not until the Council makes its decision.” VP punched the trunk.

“They’re just taking so damn long!” her eyes flickered angrily. Sam put a comforting hand on her shoulder.

“It’s a big decision, VP,” he said, soothingly. “Be patient.”

“They allow revenge killings. Doesn’t my case count as revenge?” she snapped, past patience. “I am beyond ‘be patient’, Sam. I am sick of it and I will _not_ be patient any longer. If no decision is made in the next day...” She let her voice trail off but the rest of her statement was clear anyway.

“It’s not worth it! They’ll throw you out, VP!” Sam’s eyes pierced into her soul. “I don’t want you to leave and I know Star doesn’t. You _are_ important, VP!”

“I’m not so sure anymore. I ruined the City, and I ruined the camp. I am a loner by nature, Sam. A loner and exile by nature and either way, I will soon be a loner once again.” VP turned away. “I will be forgotten soon enough, Sam. It is best you too forget about me.”

“I couldn’t,” he said, simply. “I could not forget about you in a million years.” His boyish face shone with sincerity. “Believe me.”

“I won’t live that long and neither will you,” VP said with a slight laugh.

XX

Much to VP’s disgust, Star agreed with Sam.

“You can’t just kill him,” she said instantly. “Neither you nor I have the right to decide who is worthy of life or not. We cannot decide for anyone.”

“I have the ghosts of twelve innocents haunting me,” VP hissed. Her eyes were almost white now. It was a most scary look, particularly set in her chocolate skin, and neither of them bothered to try to talk her down, knowing they would fail.

XX

The Council called the camp together to make an important announcement. Three Councillors- Faith, Thelma and Thomas- stood together on a makeshift platform made by two sturdy tables before the crowd that had gathered, Dallas sitting in the front and VP and her two friends at the back.

“Welcome all. Thank you for gathering here and answering our summons. We have important news that everyone must hear, so if any of your friends are not here please pass it on to them when you see them next,” Faith paused and Thomas took over.

“We the Council have been discussing Dallas for the last hour, his story, and the story Viewpoint told us, and we have come to a decision,” here both Dallas and VP sat bolt upright, and Sam and Star glanced at each other.

“He is not to be executed,” Faith said. Dallas smirked in a self-satisfied way and VP half rose, snarling, before Sam tugged her back down to her seat.

“He is to be kept in this camp till the day he dies. He will not be permitted to leave under any circumstances and we will enforce this strongly. We know that many of you will be disappointed-” at this a dull roar of protest sprang up from half the crowd and Thelma raised a hand for silence, which she eventually got- “But the decision of this Council is final.”

VP rose and this time neither Star nor Sam tried to stop her. Her eyes were white with fury and her fists clenched around the handle of her whip.

“You’re making a huge mistake,” she spat, her knuckles white with tension. Dallas shrank back, terrified. He knew she wouldn’t hesitate to kill him. Faith stepped forwards.

“Control yourself, Viewpoint!” she snapped. But VP was too far gone to even hear her.

“You will all pay for this when he escapes to report to the ones holding the leash. The dog cannot be let live. He will die before the week is out,” turning on her heel, VP stalked off, leaving the crowd shocked and Dallas white with terror.


	8. Chapter 8

**Chapter 7**

No one wanted to talk to VP for fear of annoying her, not even Star or Sam. She prowled around camp sometimes, muttering and scowling, clutching her whip in her hand, but no one knew what about. No one had the guts to get close enough to listen in.

Even Dallas-the formally thought to be fearless Dallas- stayed far from her. He may have mocked her in the past, but things had changed. He had a terrible feeling he was living out his last days, one he would try to shake and laugh off. But every time he saw VP the shaking started and he bolted the other direction, terrified.

The next day Star sought her friend out.

“VP, kill him already if you’re going to do it,” she said. “I’m getting sick of staying away from you and Sam is getting annoyed with only me for company too. So you have to join us again.”

“Kill him, you say?” VP asked, obviously having heard only the first sentence. “I will. I will make him scream for mercy and show him all the mercy he showed to them,” her eyes darkened and she squeezed her fist tighter around the handle of her whip. “I will show him more mercy than he deserves.” Star placed a hand on her shoulder.

“Hush. Don’t talk about it where others can hear you. Wait till we’re alone to tell me. Sam and I have been camping out outside the camp for the last few days. We brought enough food for three and an extra sleeping bag.” It took a moment for her friend’s rage blinded mind to catch the implication.

“Oh,” she said. “Thanks, then. Better foxes than people.” She let Star steer her out of the camp, coiling and uncoiling her whip in her hands, its nine tails fluttering in the breeze.

“Much better foxes than people,” Star said firmly. VP shook her head to clear it, her black hair swishing about her ears with the movement. Usually it was braided and either left hanging or wrapped tightly around her head, but today it was loose, and wild. Obviously she hadn’t brushed it in several days. Her cheeks were gaunt and she was too thin, and she hadn’t washed. Viewpoint had not being taking care of herself.

Some distance from camp was a makeshift camp. Three sleeping bags, one rolled up the other two open, encircled a campfire, unlit in the daylight. Tins were stacked neatly atop each other next to the fire and there was a basket on the other with empty tins carelessly discarded.

Sam sat on a fallen tree not far away from this camp, his blonde hair flopping in his eyes as he stared at a lizard which was attempting to flee from a wildcat by climbing a tree. He chuckled, startling the lizard and the wildcat took its chance to nab it, scratching with its long and wicked claws. The lizard fell heavily on its back and the cat took its prize in its mouth, trotting off to eat somewhere in peace.

 “Gee, you had to startle the poor lizard,” Star said, rolling her eyes. “It didn’t stand a chance anyway. You could have given it a few more moments of life.”

“And deprived the cat of a meal for a few moments more?” VP countered. Startled, Sam turned to his friends.

“Oh, Star, you brought her. Good. Personally, I’m on neither the side of the cat or the lizard. Nature takes it course and people die,” His blue eyes met VP’s icy lilac ones as he spoke next. “But sometimes we help her out a little.”

“I’m guessing you two intend to help me.” Both Sam and Star nodded as one and instantly she shook her head.

“His blood will be on my hands and I intend to keep it that way. I won’t drag you two into this.” Sam rolled his eyes.

“Viewpoint, why do you think we’ve staked out here? We’re here so we can help you and no one can stop us. You aren’t going to do this alone, no matter how capable I know you are,” A smile spread over her face as Star nodded agreement.

“Well then, we’ve got some preparing to do,” VP said brightly.

XX

For the moment, Dallas remained blissfully unaware that the three co-conspirators were planning his end. He was in the mess tent, eating a bland meal of thick soup or thin stew, exactly which he could not decide.

Maxel sat opposite him, regarding his own lunch with a bemused expression.

“I can’t decide whether or not its soup or stew,” he said, cocking his head to see it from different angles. “Either way, it’s boring.” Dallas laughed.

“Neither can I,” he said. “Does it look any better from the left?” Maxel shook his head, lips quirking in a smile.

“It still looks boring,” he said, picking up his spoon and hoeing in. “But food is food and I won’t complain too loudly lest the cooks hear me and refuse to feed me again.”

Dallas picked up his own spoon and ate a mouthful of the stuff. It wasn’t too bad, he supposed. He’d have spiced it up a little but beggars can’t be choosers. And if he was to live here for the rest of his life, he’d have to get used to it. He couldn’t help but wonder, however, about just how long the rest of his life would be. Maxel echoed his thoughts exactly.

“Where do you suppose she is?” he asked. “If she was still here she’d have no doubt killed you already.” His bowl was half empty already. Dallas glanced down at his own bowl, hardly touched. He hadn’t had much of an appetite lately. He shrugged.

“Who knows?” he said. “No one else seemed concerned so I don’t see why I should be either.” This was of course a lie. He was very concerned. That was why he had no appetite. He put his spoon down. He wouldn’t eat anymore, no matter if it was as tasty as he would have spiced it up to be. He was actually a fairly adept hand in the kitchen. As a bachelor, he’d learned.

“I’m nervous,” Maxel admitted. “Star and Sam are missing too, and I’m afraid the three amigos are planning dastardly things to do to you.” Dallas remained silent. Broodingly, he put his head on his hands.

“Looking at it from her side, I can understand why she’d want to kill me,” he admitted. Maxel looked shocked, opening his mouth to speak. “And I did deal her a very personal wound. Her fiancée wasn’t even chosen. That last execution was simply...” he fell silent. __

“I used to like her,” Maxel said, angrily. “But her true colours were revealed when you arrived, and my eyes were opened.”

“No,” Dallas said. “It wasn’t her true colours.” _They could never be her true colours. She is much too kind._ “They were the colours I painted on her. I was wrong, Maxel. I was wrong, not her.” Maxel looked stunned, opening and closing his mouth several times.

“But you’ve always said it was all her,” he said, finally finding his voice once again. “You’ve always said she overreacted, that it wasn’t the truth at all!” his voice rose alarmingly, attracting the attention of others eating lunch.

“I’m wrong about many things,” Dallas said with a heavy sigh, shoulders slumping, unknowingly repeating something that VP had shot at him in this very tent not so long ago. “And that is one of them.”

XX

Star entered the camp not long later to find Dallas sitting despondently in a chair on the outskirts. Despite herself, concern bubbled up in her and she went over to him.

“Are you alright?” she asked in a low voice, crouching before him, her shoulder length sun bleached blonde hair hanging about her face. He looked up at her and sighed.

“Why are you talking to me?” he asked. “After all I’ve done to her, why are you speaking to me now and sounding so concerned?” His voice sounded dead, like he was tormenting himself. The camp was practically empty in the midday heat, everyone in their tents seeking what little shade they provided, though the heat was dramatically increased.

“Because I’m a fool, that’s why. Tell me why you’re so flat,” Star returned, sitting beside him. He chuckled a little but it was a hollow sound.

“You are a fool to speak to a murderer,” he said. “If she sees you talking to me...” He glanced around compulsively, trying to find VP. Star laid her hand on his.

“I came alone,” she said. “Don’t worry. She won’t hear us.”

“I’ve been lying. To everyone. To myself,” he squeezed his eyes shut and a tear leaked out. “I’ve been trying to persuade myself I’m innocent so... if I told the camp and they believed me and I had a following who believed it... maybe I’d fool myself too.” Star squeezed his hand slightly and he looked up at her.

“Tell her I’ll be waiting for her by the oasis,” he said. “Tell her that I’m sorry.” Removing her hand, Star nodded.

“I will.”

“Tell her… tell her that I…” Star cocked her head curiously. “Never mind,” he said hastily.

XX

VP was waiting in the desert a long way from camp when Dallas arrived unarmed and alone. She raised an eyebrow.

“Huh. So Star wasn’t hallucinating. You really did come and you really are sorry,” she said. She looked calm, in control. Like she was doing what she knew to be right. What he knew he deserved. He nodded.

“Yes. You have no idea how sorry I am.” He sounded broken, his posture slumped. “I’ve come more to be free of the guilt than to let you take my life for your revenge. I deserve to be the target of your revenge.” He looked her straight in the eyes. “I am sorry.”

“I am too,” she said. “Sorry that I can’t take longer to do this. But I’ll kill you quickly, Ryal. Eleven lashes.” She removed her whip from her belt and uncoiled it. “If you survive past those, then I’ll take special revenge on you for my Toran.”

Despondently he nodded, removing his shirt. VP delivered the first lash along with a shouted name.

“Lyra!”

XX

Nine lashes later he was still conscious. VP stared amazed. His blood was flecked everywhere, bone showed through the rips and tears in his skin and tears flooded his cheeks, though she wasn’t sure exactly what the tears were for. As she drew her arm back to deliver the second last blow, an agonised moan ripped from him, stopping her cold. Bitter regret swept through her.

 _What have you become?_ she asked herself in anguish.

She tried to tell herself that she was fulfilling a custom, that she was in the right, but he was writhing in pain, his back ripped open panting shallowly, and she was not a giver of justice. She was a doctor, and had no right to do this to another living being. __

Kneeling, she cupped a handful of the spilled blood in her two palms and watched it pool in the centre of her hands, dripping through to the ground.

“I lay your ghosts to rest with these lashes,” she spoke aloud to the air as she tipped them so the blood drained. A collective sigh seemed to go up and a huge weight was lifted from her shoulders, as nine ghosts finally ascended to paradise, avenged. Three watched her still.

“May peace be with you, unavenged lives,” she whispered. “Be free with your friends and my apologies. I have a special service to pay.” Two of the ghosts seemed to incline their heads and ascended till only Toran’s remained. He regarded her with calm eyes and she smiled tearfully at him.

“Soon, my love,” she said. Then she knelt by Dallas and placed a hand on his forehead. She sucked in a deep breath, closed her eyes for a moment. Hatred for this man warred momentarily with her guilt.

“I forgive you,” she breathed. Toran smiled approvingly, encouragingly. “I forgive you all your crimes against my kin, and wish you a place at the holy table of my god that you may dine amongst us for eternity.”

Dallas’s eyes widened in utter shock and, for once, he could find nothing to say.

“Sleep well, Ryal, and may you wake in paradise.” With that she bowed her head and he tried to speak, to say, ‘no! Don’t! I don’t deserve it!’ but couldn’t. His battered body shut down and as he took his last breath, Toran hugged her once more, his arms passing right through her, and a haunting whisper spoke.

“Do not hasten to join us. I will reserve a place for you next to me,” and then he was gone, ascending to the clouds to join the crowd of spirits waiting for him. And as one, singing joyously, they passed through until they could be seen no more.

Covered in Ryal’s blood, next to his body, VP curled and slept fitfully, sure she would incur the wrath of the Gods through her taking on of a role not appointed to her.


	9. Chapter 9

**Chapter 8- An Exile Twice Over**

VP turned herself in.

Covered in Dallas’s blood, she disarmed herself publically and turned herself in for justice to be served, much to everyone’s surprise. She even told them where his body was and warned them what condition he was in.

Unsure what else to do, the Council put her back in her tent, under heavy guard. They had a feeling, however, that this time she wouldn’t sneak out. She was very quiet, so quiet in fact that several times a day the guards would check on her to make sure she was still there. Every time they checked she was writing in her diary.

Her continued silence confused and scared them. They were sure she was up to something. But she never did anything. And she hadn’t spoken a word since returning to camp. Ever more perplexed, a trial to determine exactly what had happened out there was scheduled to happen in a week.

Meals were brought to her and she was allowed out for two hours a day to exercise, when they watched her particularly carefully. But exercise was all she ever did, running ahead of her guards, as if trying to outrun something. Her eyes were haunted.

Maxel had even visited her once to apologise for the way he had treated her. It wasn’t much but it meant a lot to her. He had come to realise that Dallas had been right. She was distant, but she looked him in the eye and smiled slightly with a small nod.

The date for the hearing finally rolled around. In the wait she had written countless pages of letters to everyone imaginable and countless diary entries. She regretted what she had done. She had killed someone. That fact chilled her to her bone. She was still waiting for the Gods’ wrath, but until then, she had vowed not to speak. Until she paid the price for the blood she had spilled she wouldn’t speak another word.

She was escorted to the Council tent a week later. Prominent in the front seats were Sam and Star, naturally, as they were to tell their stories, and Maxel, also to tell his. VP sat before the judge, Faith, and the Council calmly, eyes closed.

“This is the first trial of this nature we have held in this camp. I am glad to be able to say that. I just want to make one thing clear: this is an investigation trial only. No sentence is to be passed here.”

Without the fraying tensions between VP and Dallas, the rift had mended itself. People who had supported VP sat beside former supporters of Dallas, and the genuine affection they held for each other was obvious. VP wasn’t the only one relieved at that. She had never wanted to drag the entire camp into a war over _her_ conflict with one man.

“Firstly this Council calls on Viewpoint to recount her history with the man we called Dallas. Please, Viewpoint.”

VP just shook her head. Faith frowned but knew she would not be shaken. She gathered herself and continued.

“Star, would you tell this Council your perspective on the conflict in this camp between the factions of Viewpoint and Dallas please?”

Star rose, shaking her unruly hair out of her eyes. Heading to the chair, she addressed both the Council and people who were watching.

“No conflict was ever intended, at least not on VP’s part, and I don’t believe Dallas wanted it at the end. The conflict VP had with Dallas was purely personal,” she said.

“And yet you were prominent amongst Viewpoint’s faction,” Faith said.

“I was simply supporting my friend, Councillor. I wanted nothing to do with factions. My friend was in distress and needed me. I could provide a shoulder to cry on and someone to rage to. What else are friends for?”

“You are quite correct,” Faith said with a warm smile. “Thank you, Star. Sit, please.” Bowing slightly from her waist, Star returned to her seat. Again Faith flipped through the sheets of paper in her hand and after a moment looked up again.

“Maxel, you were the primary supporter of the man known to us as Dallas. Am I correct in saying this?” Maxel looked up from the floor and nodded.

“Yes, Councillor,” he said. His face was unreadable, his voice even.

“Please stand and tell us your take on the story,” Faith said, with a gesture. With his heavy tread, he stood and walked to the chair, but remained standing.

“I used to- I like Viewpoint. I don’t know why I supported Dallas. I’m a fool. Before he died- before Viewpoint killed him-” he glanced at her but she didn’t look at him- “He told me that they were his fault, all the hostilities,” Faith looked startled at this as Maxel continued.

“I was stunned, but when I think about it, he was right. The hostilities only started after he arrived and camp is peaceful again now. I owe an apology to Viewpoint for the way I treated her.” VP shook her head with a tiny smile as if to say ‘forget it’. Her silence was unnerving.

“Please sit, Maxel. Thank you for your input,” With a tilt of his head, and a mischievous grin to VP, Maxel sat.

“Now,” Faith said. “Would Viewpoint please come up and tell this court of inquiry why she killed the man we knew as Dallas and she knew as Ryal in such a grisly manner?” Here the crowd fell silent, eager to hear her explanation. Rising gracefully, she stood facing the crowd. She needed to tell them, to apologise. The Gods would surely forgive her for that.

“What I did was wrong. I am no lawkeeper. I am a doctor. I was wrong.”

People waited for more but she did not deliver.

“Please sit, Viewpoint.” Faith said, breaking the silence. “This session of Council is adjourned while we discuss and deliberate over what to do.”

Everyone filed out of the room.

XX

The wait was agonising for Sam and Star. But VP had shown no signs of this. Her tortured eyes were filled with regret and she refused to listen to her friends’ words of comfort. She knew that she deserved judgement.

“This council has deliberated and... we cannot come to a conclusion,” Faith admitted when the session was called again. “So we offer Viewpoint the choice. Exile, or you stay here with guards permanently.” She inclined her head in respect to the Council and Faith in particular, then indicated the first option with a finger.

“Very well,” Faith sighed. “Farewell, Viewpoint.”

Farewell, her eyes seemed to say.

XX

Sam, Star and VP stood at the edge of camp together. VP had a backpack on which contained her novel, some food and water, a book to write in and pen. Around her neck was a large locket with two photos in it, one in the lid and one in the body. In the body there was a picture of three chocolate skinned people; herself, a young man with short black hair and an angry expression and a black girl with silky black hair. Galen and Lora. In the lid was a photo of her, Sam and Star. They were laughing together happily.

“You’re sure we can’t come with you?” Sam asked. He had a bag with him just in case, as did Star. VP shook her head and hugged her friends tightly, first Star, then Sam. There were tears glimmering in her eyes. Sam wiped one away.

“We’ll never forget you,” he said softly. “We’ll never forget the laughter we shared.” He smiled warmly at her.

“I’ll learn to play chess,” Star said. VP smiled slightly, pressing a sheath of papers into Star’s hand. Then she hugged them both again and started into the distance, a lonely, solitary figure.

They watched sadly, smiling and waving until she was out of sight.

This was how they would remember each other forever.


End file.
